As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please scroll down a bit to where you see the Thppgrg tag. Click on it. Yeah, that’s right. Otherwise, if you missed part eight, you can just click here. (Art by Chris McFann.)

Also, he felt just super, SUPER guilty about waking the kid up when he phased through my wall screaming hideously about filthy gobos in the middle of the night with his rotten, partially severed and now-eyeless head flopping around and his blood-stained dungeon-themed adventure pajamas all fluttering in the noiseless wind of the void.

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please scroll down a bit to where you see the Thppgrg tag. Click on it. Yeah, that’s right. Otherwise, if you missed part seven, you can just click here. (Art by Chris McFann.)

DAY THIRTY-FOUR

Odd day, today.

Our landlord stopped by this morning, and apparently Jimbo’s lease is technically commercial/industrial, rather than residential; this means that he cannot keep his adopted infant frost-elven daughter, Princess Leafirellha, in his section of Level One any longer. Jimbo has asked, somewhat sheepishly, if she can maybe move in with me in the residentially approved and strategically important Fountain Room, at least temporarily; my assistant manager—Stonnehyldd the Super-Smart Stone Golem—has intimated to me that it would look pretty good to the boss-man at my next performance review if I at least took over some babysitting duties.

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please scroll down a bit to where you see the Thppgrg tag. Click on it. Yeah, that’s right. Otherwise, if you missed part six, you can just click here. (Art by Chris McFann.)

DAY TWENTY-NINE

Mondays. Seriously.

Had surprise, very brief, one-sidedly drunken performance review with Dark Lord Torkelheim today; he says that —since I’ve been here a full four days—I am now the longest-surviving goblin minion he has ever employed. Again, he does not appear to recall hiring me about a month ago, and has begun calling me “Stevens.”

Small, private hopes for large-scale, surprise one-month-anniversary party tomorrow—featuring cake and punch and very possibly a pinata —now dashed.

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please scroll down a bit to where you see the Thppgrg tag. Click on it. Yeah, that’s right. Otherwise, if you missed part five, you can just click here. (Art by Chris McFann.)

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

Who am I kidding?

Of course I read Shaendralya’s note to Sigvald. I’m evil.

Here it is, in its entirety.

NOTE: it appears that she may speak some strange variant of Elven or of Common (perhaps the heretofore unknown “Half-Elven” language?) that I am unfortunately not entirely familiar with—although it plainly uses the near-universal rune-alphabetic script. Her spellings have been kept intact:

You’ve seen him showing up in Friday’s Funny. Now you can roll with him in your game! It’s Thppgrg, the long-suffering goblin minion of Dark Lord Torkelheim. Take a look at Boomer’s statistics for Thppgrg, whose first diary entry takes you into the world of the strategically important fountain and theoretically important fountain room.